


Dream Weaver

by teddyfazbear



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Name-Calling, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 05:31:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12269874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddyfazbear/pseuds/teddyfazbear
Summary: Freddy Krueger's been haunting your nightmares, but you have a way to turn things around.





	Dream Weaver

**Author's Note:**

> Me and the gf have been on a horror movie/slasher film kick lately and Freddy is such a fuckin' fun character and completely my type tbh :/ No one asked for this but here it is.

“Those things are _so_ not good for you, y’know?”

You jumped in your seat at your friend’s words.  Despite chugging an energy drink, you had dozed off at your desk only to be startled awake by her.  It took you a moment to process her words.  Once you did, you shrugged apathetically, and shook your Red Bull can to confirm it was really empty.  “Wouldn’t make it through my shift today without it though,” you admitted.  After stifling a yawn, you knocked the can into the garbage pale beside your desk.

“God, what’s with you lately?” asked your friend.  She leaned against the desk, arms crossed.  You could read the concern on her face.  “You look like someone’s sucked the life out of you.  What’s up?”

Hell, you _felt_ like someone sucked the life out of you.  You debated on whether or not you should tell her the truth.  In all honesty, you were not quite certain you knew the truth yourself.  The past few weeks, you had been plagued with these terrible nightmares.  This man, this… _monster_ … he’d chase you all night, cackling and taunting you.  Luckily, you always managed to wake up before he really got you.  The superstition was if you die in your dreams, you die in real life- and frankly you had no desire to find out for yourself.   Briefly, you considered that it was just the new environment which caused your lack of sleep, which in turn was driving you crazy.  The dreams only began after moving into your new home on Elm.  Perhaps the dreams were only your apprehensions about living on your own manifesting in your sleep.  But those dreams- they felt so realistic, so terrifying.  As unlikely as it sounded, you would wake exhausted, drenched in sweat, your body littered with strange cuts and bruises that corresponded with events from your nightmares.  You had to tell someone; you had to get this off your chest.

“I’ve… just been having these weird dreams lately,” you said. “A-about this guy who won’t stop chasing me-“

“Is he **_hot_**?  Is it someone we work with?” your friend interrupted. Her face lit up and you could already tell she was pondering which of your coworkers she believed it to be.  Maybe you were just a prude, but you swore she had to be the horniest person you know.  You simply rolled your eyes.

“No, he’s _not_ hot.  I have no clue who he is.”

“That’s nonsense,” she interjected again. “You can only dream of faces that you already know.  Right?  I’m pretty sure I read that online before.”

“I don’t know but I swear, I’ve never seen this man before in my life.  He’s terrifying, like burnt and disfigured… I’m positive I would remember a man like that.” Your voice wavered as you spoke.  Tears threatened to fall from your eyes.  Just thinking about that man caused your heart rate to race.  “A-and he had these claws.  These sharp metal claws.  Like knives on his fingertips.”  One particularly bad cut on your stomach began to burn as you recalled this detail.  You raised your blouse enough to expose it to the cool office air.  The slash was far too deep to be simply a coincidental scrape.  “I… woke up with this.”

Your friend grew silent, finally grasping the magnitude of your fear.  “He only comes to you in dreams, right?” she asked.  After a nod in response from you, she sat down on your desk.  In a whisper, she continued, “I have a trick, if you want to get some sleep.  You might not like it though…”

You sighed and fixed your top.  Whatever she said had to be better than nothing.  You were absolutely desperate.  “I’m willing to do anything at this point.  It’s been weeks since my last good night’s sleep.  I feel like if I don’t get rest soon I’m going to die.”

“Well… when I was younger… I used to be really scared of zombies,” she said.  “Like, those crazy episodes of Maury scared.  Then, one of my friends gave me this advice, and I’ll never forget it. You know when you’re scared as shit about performing or speaking in front of class or something and your parents are like, ‘imagine them in their underwear and it’s not as scary!’  Well, kind of the same concept here.  If you sexualize something, it’s less likely to scare you.”

“What the fuck…”  You couldn’t believe the words coming from her mouth.  Was she actually suggesting you try to sexualize that monster?  She had to be joking, right?  No, her somber expression did not falter once.

“I’m serious.  Anyway, after a few drinks my friend somehow got me to sit through a zombie porno and I swear I’m cured!  Every time I see a zombie now, I get a little turned on.  Like some Pavlov’s dog shit or something.  You wanna get some sleep tonight?  Pour yourself a glass of wine, sleep in your birthday suit, grab your favorite toy and get ready for bed.”

You only answered with silence, still trying to process whatever the hell your friend just told you.  She was one hundred percent convinced that it would work as well.  That was the single stupidest thing you’ve ever heard.  But, you thought, it might just be crazy enough to work.  Your friend patted you on the shoulder.  “Now, go on home; you need some rest.  I’ve got you covered for the rest of your shift.”

“I’m fine.  You really don’t have to do tha-“

“I mean it.  You’re not worth a shit like this anyway,” she laughed.  “I’ll go ahead and let the manager know you got sick.  You’re in good standing, so she won’t bat an eye.”  Before you could protest further or even thank her, she ushered you out of the office.  You hailed a cab, too weary to wait for the bus back to Elm Street.  It took all you had not to doze off in the backseat, but the pungent smell of the taxi did assault your senses enough to help keep you awake.

Back at home, you considered the advice you had been given.  You grabbed a stemless wine glass from the cabinet and filled it to the brim with the Moscato you had been saving for a special occasion, before trudging up the stairs to your bedroom.  After taking a few sips, you sat the glass on your nightstand and headed to the master bath to wash up for bed.  As someone who normally took so much pride in your appearance, the one who stared back in the mirror disgusted you.  How could you let yourself go out like this?  Your eyes were puffy and bloodshot.  Your eyeliner was smudged from rubbing the sleep from your eyes too frequently.  There were dark circles underneath that were painfully visible despite the layers of makeup caked overtop.  Taking a damp washcloth to your face, you wiped away the cosmetics.  You were much too exhausted to take a full shower.  You stripped away your work clothes and headed to your dresser to find some pajamas.  Your friend had suggested sleeping in the buff, but you didn’t want to be too vulnerable just in case this little scheme backfired.  You opted for a babydoll chemise- cute yet still comfortable enough to wear to sleep.  After hitting the lights, you slipped in between the sheets.  Despite the sun still being up, you were in complete darkness thanks to the blackout curtains you had invested in.

‘ _Just what was that bastards name again?_ ’ you asked yourself while settling down in bed.  As if on cue, that chilling rhyme from your nightmares began to play in your mind.

_One, two, Freddy’s coming for you…  Three, four, better lock the door…_

Freddy… His name was Freddy.

You took a moment to recall the details of the one you had been spending weeks attempting to ignore.  There wasn’t much you could remember about him, since you spent most your time together running from him.  You did know that all the skin he had exposed looked as though it had been badly burnt.  You wondered if the rest of his body looked like that.  You imagined him removing the tacky, tattered sweater he wore, picturing him being very fit underneath from all the exercise he seemed to get from chasing you around.  It embarrassed you to admit, but your friend’s idea was working.  Instead of being afraid, you giggled at the thought of his scarred and blistered abs.  Would they be hot to the touch from the burns?  Or cold as ice from possibly being undead?  You preferred to imagine him being warm as pressed against you.

“ _Is something funny, bitch?_ ” he would possibly say.  He _always_ called you a bitch.  You could almost hear the filthy language he would growl into your ear.  Your hand drifted to your core, disgustingly slick just from imagining the man’s heavy breath against the sensitive skin of your neck, whispering about all the obscene fucked up things he would do to you.  Biting your lip, you wondered how the cool metal of his claws would feel as they ghosted across your skin ever so slightly.  Oh God, this was actually kind of hot.  You rubbed yourself lazily as you thought about him going down on you, making good use of that tongue he liked to use to taunt you.

You were so relaxed at that point that you ended up drifting off to sleep without even realizing it until you were jolted awake by the sound of laughter coming from the far corner of your room.

“ _Freddy_?” you asked.  Your voice was so soft you could barely hear it yourself.  Your guest took a step forward, you could see the silhouette of a man, a hat on top of his head, and the outline of long, sharp fingers on his right hand.  He was here.

A strange cocktail of fear and arousal brewed in the pit of your stomach as the dream demon sauntered over.  You would not run this time, no more playing hard to get.  He reached the foot of your bed, ripping the covers away from you and exposing your mostly bare skin to the coolness of the dark room.  His hot gaze fell on you, surprised by your attire. “Well, well, well, don’t you look _cute_ ,” said Freddy, admiring your body as he continued closer to you.  With his gloved hand, he reached for the half empty cup of wine still sitting on your nightstand.  In one large gulp, he downed the rest before crushing the glass in his fist.  Chuckling, he crawled up on the bed to join you.  “Don’t tell me you got all dolled up and ready for Freddy.” he said.  He tilted your chin up with one of his knives.  You nodded meekly, feeling a blush creep across your cheeks.  He smiled at you, baring a mouth full of rotten teeth.  “Awwww, bitch… You shouldn’t have!” In one agonizingly slow motion, his claw ripped through the thin fabric of your chemise, nicking your skin in the process.  The tattered gown fell off the sides of your body and beside you on the mattress.  Freddy eyed the rise and fall of your exposed chest.  Your breathing was heavy, but even.  “ _Much_ better.”

The tip of his metal claw was still stained and dripping with your blood.  Smiling wickedly, your eyes connected with the dull blue ones of your assailant.  You reached for his right hand, grabbing it by the wrist and brought it to your lips. If Freddy had eyebrows, they would surely be furrowed- angry and confused by your newfound courage.  Never once breaking contact, you stuck out your tongue, boldly licking your own blood off his weapon.  A low growl emitted from Freddy’s chest.

“Your sudden lack of fear leaves me weak, I must admit,” he breathed.  The faint smell of burnt flesh permeated around you as he drew near.  His free hand snaked down between your legs.  “But I think I found your weakness as well.”  Rough, burnt fingers plunged into your wetness.  You gasped and gripped at the sheets, unused to anything being inserted into you.  He laughed as you squirmed at his touch. “So tight, so _pure_ ,” he growled. “I may not take your soul tonight, but I have a hunch I’ll still take _something_ from you.” He slipped another digit into you, stretching you slightly.

“You like that don’t you, bitch?” Freddy taunted.  A moan escaped you in response. “Well, _tough_ ,” he snapped, withdrawing his fingers from you.  You whined, suddenly feeling so empty and needy.  “Shut up,” he said.  You went quiet immediately.  He chuckled.  “I’ll finish you off, you little slut, but first you gotta take care of daddy.”  Freddy fiddled with the buckle of his belt, surprisingly unfastening it with ease despite the apparatus on his right hand.  He pushed his trousers down slightly, just enough to reveal his erect cock.  Much like you expected, it was just as grotesque as the rest of his body.  You barely had time to view it before Freddy commanded you to suck.  You were promptly on your knees, taking the tip of his ugly cock into your mouth, sucking cautiously.  Freddy grabbed the back of your head and forced himself further into you.  You felt the claws digging into the back of your scalp.  “ _Harder_ , bitch.”  You did as you were told, trying your best to please him though your jaw ached as it adjusted to his girth.  “That’s a good girl,” he cooed.  You were certain this was less for his pleasure than it was about degrading you.  You took it with stride, being sure to make all sorts of lewd noises as you went down on him.  This was your dream after all, and you were taking it back.  As you could feel his body respond to your ministrations, he tugged you away from him by a fistful of your hair.  “Well, aren’t we eager?  I knew you could do more with that pretty little mouth than scream.”

“But can you do more with yours than just wisecrack?” you scoffed.  In an instant, Freddy pinned you down on the mattress and forced his mouth upon yours, kissing that smug look off your face.  His slimy tongue slithered into your mouth despite your protests.  He broke the kiss and trailed further south, kissing your neck, your collarbone, he hovered over your chest and flicked his tongue across one of your nipples.  You gasp in pleasure as his dry, charred lips enveloped around you the tip of your breast and began sucking on the tender flesh.  He paid the same amount of attention the other, eliciting delicious moans from you. You couldn’t imagine how good he would feel between your legs.

Like he was reading your very thoughts, he spread your thighs apart and situated himself between them.  His tongue delved into your pussy, slowly licking the most sensitive parts of your sex. Oh, for a murderer he was _too_ fucking good at this.  He was better than you had imagined earlier.  You gripped the brim of his hat, attempting to bring him closer to your core.  You writhed and moaned underneath him, orgasm quickly building and threatening to release.  Yet all too soon, Freddy abruptly stopped.

“Not so fast, little girl,” Freddy laughed, wagging a finger at you.  You sighed impatiently as the dream demon got into position.  He pressed his cock against your virgin entrance, rocking his hips to push his entire length into you.  It was a strange sensation- excruciating at first due to the sheer size of the insertion, but not entirely uncomfortable.  Once he was fully sheathed, he barely allowed you time to adjust before he withdrew and thrust roughly into you again.  Each thrust was deeper, harder than the last.  Faster.  Rougher.  Metal dug into your hip as he held you firmly in place and fucked you into the mattress.  Despite the pain, you found yourself overwhelmed with ecstasy, moaning while teetering on the edge of release.  Tension built between the two of you until you could take no more.  Your orgasm took over your body, causing you to spasm underneath Freddy.  He grunted as he thrust into you one last time, your climax provoking his own release-

 

Your eyes fluttered open suddenly as your alarm woke you from your slumber.  For the first time in weeks, you actually felt rested.  You couldn’t actually believe your friend was right.  You had managed to turn your nightmare around.  You couldn’t help but notice how sore you felt, but you wrote that off as your body punishing you for going to long without sleep.  “God, that was some dream,” you yawned, sitting up in your bed.  It was then you noticed something wasn’t quite right.  Your pajamas were torn, your bed was a mess, and you felt sweaty and sticky.  There was also still that lingering smell of burnt flesh.  You rose out of bed and headed to shower, swearing as you stepped on a piece of broken glass in the process.  You hobbled to the bathroom to clean up your foot, luckily the cut wasn’t too deep.  It was then that you felt a stinging pain on your hip.  You looked in the mirror and saw that your skin was all scratched and clawed, but the most curious of all was that a heart seemed to be carved into your skin where you felt the sting.  Freddy was real, and you had a feeling he’d be back.


End file.
